Morning sunlight crept into Lynda’s rented place, casting lazy beams across the mess of notebooks and files sprawling over her small dining table. Outside, Atlanta was already humming with energy; it almost seemed as though the city itself had sensed her quiet victory and was just waiting to see what she would do next. Lynda leaned back in her chair, fingers interlaced, letting herself think about the journey so far. Just a few months earlier, she would still have been confined in a kind of ...